deepundergroundpoetry.com
Wild Hearts
- Wild Hearts -
Oh, beautiful divine maiden, though the night be dark…
I am smitten, with thee; and so, of my words now hark!
Looking into the door of thy mind, I have seen so much,
Of a longing as great as my own, and so I do say such…
Words as are whispered, by angels: to those who love.
Do not tell me all thy secrets, for I hath many to keep…
Of my own; so let us think of desire and only of it drink!
Let thy eyes gaze into mine own, and do not once blink,
Until we each take the measure of the other and savor…
The best of what lies within, like the tastiest of flavor!
Thy lips beg to be savored as much as any fairer thing,
So let my tongue worship at its’ altar, blessings to bring.
The coming winter would be warmed by such mad joy,
As we could playfully discover, if we did swift employ…
The hunger within our souls, to the noblest end realized:
Fantasies fulfilled, beyond all imaginings more civilized!
I would sprinkle the petals of flowers at thy very toes…
As I massage thy feet with precious oils, I do suppose.
My hands to move with sweet ministrations on thy skin,
Until thou canst wait no longer for love’s sport to begin!
Our hearts can tell us what secrets they may, in silence.
All that I need to know is in thy lovely face’s brilliance!
Let us walk amongst the Sakura trees as in our dreams,
Stealing hot kisses from one another by placid streams.
My arms encircling thy waist, bringing thee closer still…
Who is seducing whom, and by what pleasing art’s skill?
Let me sweep thee into the darkness, of my embrace!
So long as I may be swept: into thy own darkest grace.
Let my fingers entwine in the tresses of thy lovely hair…
As other softness we know, beyond words to compare.
My hand upon thy thigh, soft and round, so welcoming!
In mine ears I hear thee sigh, as the magic is beckoning.
My breath quickens, and thou art the muse of a new art:
A sensual inspiration, which ensnared me from the start!
I will never judge thee; never condemn thy wildest soul,
For I love the wildness of it as you keep under control.
I would not see thee tamed, but rather I would entice…
The power of thy spirit with a promise: so rare and nice.
Promises of ecstasies the likes of which the elect above,
Cannot hope to match, and so I offer thee my very love!
Let slip that civilized exterior for a time as we give vent,
To the passions life makes us bury; let us grow content…
By sipping of the ambrosia of wet lips slick with longing.
We are so much alike in many ways, and so belonging…
To a breed apart, and make no mistake my darling one:
I am kindred to thy spirit, and thus let our will be done.
Pleasures beyond measure, and dreams like none other,
Which only the lustiest of means, may hope to uncover!
Love is not a game, but it is a pastime rare and comely,
Fit for gods and goddess, but best of all for I, and thee!
Thy beauty hath enchanted me so let my words weave,
A magic, all their own, in which thy spirit might believe!
The night shall enfold us, for it is the time made for this,
Most rare of sports: our sweet surrender unto true bliss.
So in our secret rendezvous, let us love and lust in full…
None need know, but us, the powers of passion’s pull!
Oh, beautiful divine maiden, though the night be dark…
I am smitten, with thee; and so, of my words now hark!
Looking into the door of thy mind, I have seen so much,
Of a longing as great as my own, and so I do say such…
Words as are whispered, by angels: to those who love.
Do not tell me all thy secrets, for I hath many to keep…
Of my own; so let us think of desire and only of it drink!
Let thy eyes gaze into mine own, and do not once blink,
Until we each take the measure of the other and savor…
The best of what lies within, like the tastiest of flavor!
Thy lips beg to be savored as much as any fairer thing,
So let my tongue worship at its’ altar, blessings to bring.
The coming winter would be warmed by such mad joy,
As we could playfully discover, if we did swift employ…
The hunger within our souls, to the noblest end realized:
Fantasies fulfilled, beyond all imaginings more civilized!
I would sprinkle the petals of flowers at thy very toes…
As I massage thy feet with precious oils, I do suppose.
My hands to move with sweet ministrations on thy skin,
Until thou canst wait no longer for love’s sport to begin!
Our hearts can tell us what secrets they may, in silence.
All that I need to know is in thy lovely face’s brilliance!
Let us walk amongst the Sakura trees as in our dreams,
Stealing hot kisses from one another by placid streams.
My arms encircling thy waist, bringing thee closer still…
Who is seducing whom, and by what pleasing art’s skill?
Let me sweep thee into the darkness, of my embrace!
So long as I may be swept: into thy own darkest grace.
Let my fingers entwine in the tresses of thy lovely hair…
As other softness we know, beyond words to compare.
My hand upon thy thigh, soft and round, so welcoming!
In mine ears I hear thee sigh, as the magic is beckoning.
My breath quickens, and thou art the muse of a new art:
A sensual inspiration, which ensnared me from the start!
I will never judge thee; never condemn thy wildest soul,
For I love the wildness of it as you keep under control.
I would not see thee tamed, but rather I would entice…
The power of thy spirit with a promise: so rare and nice.
Promises of ecstasies the likes of which the elect above,
Cannot hope to match, and so I offer thee my very love!
Let slip that civilized exterior for a time as we give vent,
To the passions life makes us bury; let us grow content…
By sipping of the ambrosia of wet lips slick with longing.
We are so much alike in many ways, and so belonging…
To a breed apart, and make no mistake my darling one:
I am kindred to thy spirit, and thus let our will be done.
Pleasures beyond measure, and dreams like none other,
Which only the lustiest of means, may hope to uncover!
Love is not a game, but it is a pastime rare and comely,
Fit for gods and goddess, but best of all for I, and thee!
Thy beauty hath enchanted me so let my words weave,
A magic, all their own, in which thy spirit might believe!
The night shall enfold us, for it is the time made for this,
Most rare of sports: our sweet surrender unto true bliss.
So in our secret rendezvous, let us love and lust in full…
None need know, but us, the powers of passion’s pull!
Published 16th Feb 2013
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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16th Feb 2013 11:26pm
19th Feb 2013 9:23am
Thanks, dear Grace! I've been wicked busy lately, but I still make time to write my epics. ;) Especially knowing my dear friends and fans love them so much!
Anonymous
17th Feb 2013 1:21am
Cool pic! (I couldn't help but noticing xD)
You write very pretty poems a lot.
Nice :D
You write very pretty poems a lot.
Nice :D
19th Feb 2013 9:25am
Ah, thanks Angel! You have a good eye for great poetry my dear friend. :D
And coming from such a great poetess as yourself, that means a lot to me too! *Smiles*
And coming from such a great poetess as yourself, that means a lot to me too! *Smiles*
17th Feb 2013 10:30pm
19th Feb 2013 9:26am
